I would not have mentioned this to save me of some embarrassment in life, had someone not told me that I could win a gift coupon just by ridiculing myself. So, here I am sharing this, sorry I farted incident, for the event "Tadka Maar Ke"
Well, this takes me a few years back, when these wispy tufts of hair on my head were free flowing silk threads, the dull in my eyes, sparkled like venus, in short I was young, and still fresh in college.
By then, the English men had devised a way to embarrass us and rob us of our self-respect by making us write exams like TOEFL. Yeah, it was the same demeaning day in my life and I was feeling as bad about it as the rest of them who take it.I was sulking, and wondering what all I could have done with those 7K rupees had it not gone down the funnel in my foren education fund.
A day before the exam, I happened to travel to Delhi alone, and no, this isn't one of those raunchy travel unravel stories told by Chetan Bhagat, where the hero ends up getting laid even before the journey ends. This one is a sad UPSRTC bus, which would rattle so hard that the horn was inaudible in all the din. So naturally, the journey was peaceful and spice-less, except for a couple of incidents. One involving my co-passenger spitting paan masala out of the window and my rubbing what fell on my arm, on his white shirt. The other, of a salesman being snubbed away as he tried to sell a 'Gupt Rog doshi' tablet to a bus carrying men smarting in their manliness.
It was once I reached Delhi that the real show began.
The examination center being in Hauz Khas, I decided to stay somewhere close by and hence went to a shoddy place which for some strange reason was called, 'Mandir wali gali'.
It was almost 8 p.m. on a moderately hot October day, when I reached. Battered by pollution in Delhi, the raucous on road by the autos, and frustration of call balance plummeting on roaming,(like a snapped kite), I finally arrived.
Just 2 meters away from the destination and it took 20 min to cross the road. When I finally did manage to cross it, I was taken aback by the narrowness of the place and the grimness in the air. The narrow alley could surely not have hosted a mandir. Anyhow, alking past those small shops searching for a decent place to stay, I bumped into an old old old friend. I write old thrice only to emphasize on the oddity of our meeting. A college guy from a small town, Roorkee, coming to a huge monster city, Delhi, bumping into a friend whom he met in another smallish city, Lucknow. Whatacoincidence!!! I was so surprised I jumped up in air and so did she. It so happened that she was living in a NIFT hostel nearby, and daily crossed this mandir wali gali at around the same time. Gradually, we got over the surprise and awe of the tricks that he played on us lesser mortals.
We decided that after throwing my stuff in a decent hotel room, we would move to Green Park for dinner.
Knowing the place better, she suggested a hotel and right away walked in "Bhaiyya, he wants a room for tonight, a single bed will do. We want a real cheap one." The concierge looked right, left, to and fro and everywhere except the register, because without peeping in it to look at the details he knew what he had to say. He, looked out of the hotel and saw a few police men standing, other than the general crowd that thronged the halwai shop nearby. Looking back at us, he came up with a lame excuse, "Madamji, Pulse(AIIMS fest) is going on, all the rooms are booked."
We got out disappointed, but not dejected as there were many more such places in that single gali. After assuring me, she went in the next one. and repeated the same, adding "bhaiyya kaisa bhi chalega". And this time there was an instant no. Reason the same, Pulse. With this, my pulse began to rise. No place to spend a night in Delhi where am I going to go. What was wrong with Delhi, how could everyone come for Pulse, and put up at the same place I had in mind.
Anyhow, after about 4-5 rejections and only one last place left to inquire, I got why everyone's pulse raced on seeing us together. Well, looking back I would say, I should have guessed earlier. But somehow, I didn't think, that an innocuous looking female would raise an alarm in the minds of those house keepers, though I understand their concern now, specially with a few policemen at stone's throw distance from their hotel. Now I know, Delhi dharamshalas don't house college students, who appeared like couples even for one night, but I didn't know this then.
So I asked her to let me go in first this time, and wait at some distance from the hotel. She didn't get my logic begind this arrangement, but yeah decided to stay back nonetheless, and talk to her friend over the phone, while I went in. Finally, I was shown a room in the last dharamshala of Mandir Wali Gali, which shared roof with another room, and only a temporary single brick wall to separate the two rooms.
I found after dinner, that a couple had taken shelter in the other room. Incidentally, they had come from Chandigarh to attend Pulse.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
A dream to remember!
To all the dream readers out there, read this one and tell me what it means. I have not the faintest of ideas...
I'm driving in town and all of a sudden things go blur, and I begin to doze into an endless spin. I try to steady myself, but its getting tougher and tougher, I slowly enter an entertainment park my eyes half shut by now. The guard shouts something at me, I can barely hear him, but I know what he wants, so I bend down to open the car boot. After that I take a turn towards the parking, barely rubbing past the round edge of the walls. Slowly I feel sleepier, and just then I get a missed call. I reach out for my cell phone, and it was my body, giving me a missed call to wake me up. Slowly, I fall into a deep slumber and the car moves on ....
I'm driving in town and all of a sudden things go blur, and I begin to doze into an endless spin. I try to steady myself, but its getting tougher and tougher, I slowly enter an entertainment park my eyes half shut by now. The guard shouts something at me, I can barely hear him, but I know what he wants, so I bend down to open the car boot. After that I take a turn towards the parking, barely rubbing past the round edge of the walls. Slowly I feel sleepier, and just then I get a missed call. I reach out for my cell phone, and it was my body, giving me a missed call to wake me up. Slowly, I fall into a deep slumber and the car moves on ....
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Can I have the time please!
They say Time is the most valuable moving asset that you can possess. Those who respect time generally get more respect than they otherwise deserve. There are nice Swiss watches that keep you abreast with the time and those of us who cannot afford such a luxury, struggle to get the time. Well, when in trouble, there are a lot of ways to know what time it is, I list a few of them, I m sure you can come up with more so that the world is always up to it, when required.
1) If you are using a windows based laptop machine, look to the right bottom of your screen now. You will see the time.
2) Call up a friend working in an IT firm, ask him "dude, kya time hai" he would say "bahaut bura", and add "buddy, I have a deadline to meet at half past one, have only got 30 minutes to finish, talk to you later bye" and lo, you have the time.
3) Call up another friend who trades in stocks, ask him, "dude, how is it going", he would sulk for half an hour, talk at length about how his earnings have plummeted overnight and how now he was hoping for the monsoons to brighten up the sky. and he would end the conversation at, hey hold on, they are about to announce the budget in an hour at 1, I'll head back to it. There again, you get the time. but ofcourse its tiring to talk to stock brokers.
4)
#include
#include
#define BUFSIZE 128
main()
{
time_t tval;
struct tm *now;
char buf[BUFSIZE];
char *fancy_format =
"Or getting really fancy:\n"
"%A, %B %d, day %j of %Y.\n"
"The time is %I:%M %p.";
/* Get current date and time */
tval = time(NULL);
now = localtime(&tval);
printf("The current date and time:\n"
"%d/%02d/%02d %d:%02d:%02d\n\n",
now->tm_mon+1, now->tm_mday, now->tm_year,
now->tm_hour, now->tm_min, now->tm_sec);
printf("Or in default system format:\n%s\n",
ctime(&tval));
strftime(buf,sizeof buf,fancy_format,now);
puts(buf);
return 0;
}
If you are somewhat geeky, copy paste this code in your Turbo C++ compiler and you might get the time in various formats.
5) Ofcourse, everyone isn't as geeky as the author of the above code snippet, but still if you insist that you get the time as a display, 'coz calling up friends hasn't really worked... then start writing a blog, write the first word "bullshit" and wait for blogger to do the rest, soon catch it when it shows.. draft auto saved at 1:00 PM ... there you have the time again.
6)
OK... enough giving inane suggestion... The next step assumes that you have a facebook account.
Now set a status msg , "what time is it?"
chances are that your friends will respond, coz either they will have an inexpensive watch or ample time.. but that's not what I'm suggesting, I want you to return to that page same time next day... now it will show... posted "Yesterday at 1:53pm " .. now you'll know what time it was yesterday, when you were looking for it everywhere.
bullshit...
Having read so far, you realize as much as I do, that you really don't need to know the time.. or do you .. and neither do I ;)
1) If you are using a windows based laptop machine, look to the right bottom of your screen now. You will see the time.
2) Call up a friend working in an IT firm, ask him "dude, kya time hai" he would say "bahaut bura", and add "buddy, I have a deadline to meet at half past one, have only got 30 minutes to finish, talk to you later bye" and lo, you have the time.
3) Call up another friend who trades in stocks, ask him, "dude, how is it going", he would sulk for half an hour, talk at length about how his earnings have plummeted overnight and how now he was hoping for the monsoons to brighten up the sky. and he would end the conversation at, hey hold on, they are about to announce the budget in an hour at 1, I'll head back to it. There again, you get the time. but ofcourse its tiring to talk to stock brokers.
4)
#include
#include
#define BUFSIZE 128
main()
{
time_t tval;
struct tm *now;
char buf[BUFSIZE];
char *fancy_format =
"Or getting really fancy:\n"
"%A, %B %d, day %j of %Y.\n"
"The time is %I:%M %p.";
/* Get current date and time */
tval = time(NULL);
now = localtime(&tval);
printf("The current date and time:\n"
"%d/%02d/%02d %d:%02d:%02d\n\n",
now->tm_mon+1, now->tm_mday, now->tm_year,
now->tm_hour, now->tm_min, now->tm_sec);
printf("Or in default system format:\n%s\n",
ctime(&tval));
strftime(buf,sizeof buf,fancy_format,now);
puts(buf);
return 0;
}
If you are somewhat geeky, copy paste this code in your Turbo C++ compiler and you might get the time in various formats.
5) Ofcourse, everyone isn't as geeky as the author of the above code snippet, but still if you insist that you get the time as a display, 'coz calling up friends hasn't really worked... then start writing a blog, write the first word "bullshit" and wait for blogger to do the rest, soon catch it when it shows.. draft auto saved at 1:00 PM ... there you have the time again.
6)
OK... enough giving inane suggestion... The next step assumes that you have a facebook account.
Now set a status msg , "what time is it?"
chances are that your friends will respond, coz either they will have an inexpensive watch or ample time.. but that's not what I'm suggesting, I want you to return to that page same time next day... now it will show... posted "Yesterday at 1:53pm " .. now you'll know what time it was yesterday, when you were looking for it everywhere.
bullshit...
Having read so far, you realize as much as I do, that you really don't need to know the time.. or do you .. and neither do I ;)
Friday, August 7, 2009
Smell! the fire.
While going through all the entries of MTS '09, and relishing and enjoying them, I suddenly got a feeling like the one you get when you smell foul rotten eggs, I thought something just got beyond its melting point. Its a Saturday morning, normally these experiences shroud your mind when you watch an RGV flick, but strangely, Saturday mornings are not the right time for his movies. It had to be something else.
What all could it be, my mind ran over a few things;
1. It could be the laptop processor giving up on me. But usually the mew pees aren't known for a slow swan death, but rather a fast almost like the string snapping pace. Could it be the laptop, possibly no, a laptop loaded with original windows, is incapable of doing anything on his own, even dying.
then what could it possibly be.
2. Could this possibly be coming from my drawer where I keep most of my unwashed linen. Well practically speaking yes it could, but living the way I have lived for years I know, such a smell comes only when you havent washed them for atleast a couple of month, and I have just got back from home last month, that means they have been washed lately. No, I strike it out.
3. Could this possibly be emanating from the neighboring room? Well, his love for cleanliness has never been a cause of concern, but sometimes when his socks stink, I would rather throw him out of the window with both hands than throw out the socks with 2 fingers. but as I move towards his room the smell dissipates a bit. Its coming from the opposite direction.
4. Oh freak, its the kitchen, stepping in I realize, that the milk I had kept on stove to boil for a couple of minutes has taken the hottest lesson of its life, and has been taking it for almost an hour now. The white of the milk has camouflaged with the black of the container, and a black crust now embellishes the utensil. Some of the embroidery has put a charm on the stove itself and most of the milk has transformed into either a black crust or colorless pungent vapors. On switching on, the exhaust refused to bring about any change.
It has been an hour since then and the smell persists, finally it wakes up naman who frowns in the most characteristic of fashions. and am wondering if they ever tried this on kumbhakaran, the war could have ended sooner with different results.
This also reminds me of an incident in college, when they went from room to room asking people to smell and find out whose pair of socks was it that lay on the stairway for a week. gross. ciao!
What all could it be, my mind ran over a few things;
1. It could be the laptop processor giving up on me. But usually the mew pees aren't known for a slow swan death, but rather a fast almost like the string snapping pace. Could it be the laptop, possibly no, a laptop loaded with original windows, is incapable of doing anything on his own, even dying.
then what could it possibly be.
2. Could this possibly be coming from my drawer where I keep most of my unwashed linen. Well practically speaking yes it could, but living the way I have lived for years I know, such a smell comes only when you havent washed them for atleast a couple of month, and I have just got back from home last month, that means they have been washed lately. No, I strike it out.
3. Could this possibly be emanating from the neighboring room? Well, his love for cleanliness has never been a cause of concern, but sometimes when his socks stink, I would rather throw him out of the window with both hands than throw out the socks with 2 fingers. but as I move towards his room the smell dissipates a bit. Its coming from the opposite direction.
4. Oh freak, its the kitchen, stepping in I realize, that the milk I had kept on stove to boil for a couple of minutes has taken the hottest lesson of its life, and has been taking it for almost an hour now. The white of the milk has camouflaged with the black of the container, and a black crust now embellishes the utensil. Some of the embroidery has put a charm on the stove itself and most of the milk has transformed into either a black crust or colorless pungent vapors. On switching on, the exhaust refused to bring about any change.
It has been an hour since then and the smell persists, finally it wakes up naman who frowns in the most characteristic of fashions. and am wondering if they ever tried this on kumbhakaran, the war could have ended sooner with different results.
This also reminds me of an incident in college, when they went from room to room asking people to smell and find out whose pair of socks was it that lay on the stairway for a week. gross. ciao!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I wonder, if you are Loansome
Hellos, I’m the loan you have so far envied and hoped to possess. Just like any other prank that the finance guys play on others, I too am designed to bring misery to those for whom I am made.
But, to possess me is a tougher task than dating the hottest chick in an engineering college. While some might disagree to this, but the fact remains that while she might come to you after 6 semesters of pampering and following around, I sometimes take more than that to cross the very first barrier.
On the exterior I look very charming and innocuous, luring and enticing anyone who sets an eye on me, promising to be as loyal as an ancient wife. But they warn you to think twice before you fall in for me, coz what follows is a back breaking relationship with the ill side of fate.
To get to me you have to first fill in a form as there are more suitors for one such loan. Remember how it was in your college, yeah its only worse here. Coming to the form, though it looks friendly initially, but once you cross the Personal Details column, rest is all Gothic literature in hazy calligraphy thats illegible and repetitive to the core.
So while filling the form is just a curtain raiser to what will follow, don't be already dejected 'coz now you are already in a situation where you can neither put your second leg in, nor pull your first leg out of the quagmire.
Next you will have to submit piles of documents, which will effectively exceed in numbers those photo copies you carried to the canteen a night before any end semester exam, and needless to mention, never opened. And just like those photo copies, most of the documents you submit will never be reused, re referred or even re opened, but you better give them, otherwise you give the bank one more reason to not let you have me.
Now comes the oath taking part, like any hindu marriage you need to ceremoniously swear upon something, with a difference though. The priest might accept your oath verbally, but the bank won't. You will have to show them on paper more than what you ask for. Effectively, to get me you might just have to prove that you don’t need me. So eventually I go to the one who needs it the least, and this they call risk management.
All said and done, now I'm yours, while you think that the tough part is over, take a deep breath 'coz its now that you have to repay and keep doing that till we have a divorce.
So for all who think I make life easier, think thrice, 'coz I am a slow poison which kills you softly.
With all my love.
Anny Loan.
But, to possess me is a tougher task than dating the hottest chick in an engineering college. While some might disagree to this, but the fact remains that while she might come to you after 6 semesters of pampering and following around, I sometimes take more than that to cross the very first barrier.
On the exterior I look very charming and innocuous, luring and enticing anyone who sets an eye on me, promising to be as loyal as an ancient wife. But they warn you to think twice before you fall in for me, coz what follows is a back breaking relationship with the ill side of fate.
To get to me you have to first fill in a form as there are more suitors for one such loan. Remember how it was in your college, yeah its only worse here. Coming to the form, though it looks friendly initially, but once you cross the Personal Details column, rest is all Gothic literature in hazy calligraphy thats illegible and repetitive to the core.
So while filling the form is just a curtain raiser to what will follow, don't be already dejected 'coz now you are already in a situation where you can neither put your second leg in, nor pull your first leg out of the quagmire.
Next you will have to submit piles of documents, which will effectively exceed in numbers those photo copies you carried to the canteen a night before any end semester exam, and needless to mention, never opened. And just like those photo copies, most of the documents you submit will never be reused, re referred or even re opened, but you better give them, otherwise you give the bank one more reason to not let you have me.
Now comes the oath taking part, like any hindu marriage you need to ceremoniously swear upon something, with a difference though. The priest might accept your oath verbally, but the bank won't. You will have to show them on paper more than what you ask for. Effectively, to get me you might just have to prove that you don’t need me. So eventually I go to the one who needs it the least, and this they call risk management.
All said and done, now I'm yours, while you think that the tough part is over, take a deep breath 'coz its now that you have to repay and keep doing that till we have a divorce.
So for all who think I make life easier, think thrice, 'coz I am a slow poison which kills you softly.
With all my love.
Anny Loan.
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